Platinum Jail
by TayvieNoon
Summary: I didn't want to end up here. I guess that's what happens when you get caught red handed. (explicit, AU)
1. SOS

I hid myself into the hood of my jacket. I didn't want to give the security camera outside the satisfaction of seeing my face. This memory is a bit fuzzy. Seeing the uncomfortable look of the nurse comforting my histrionic mother. It's a bit traumatizing. That's why I want to forget it. Even though it was only last week, it's not one of my proud moments. I now reside in a one story brick building. It has a large fenced-in backyard as most houses do, but the front looks like a park with benches and trees and a garden. It's snowed over, but well-shoveled. Most of us aren't allowed out past the entryway anyway. I remembered the lobby. There were some chairs, but it didn't look like a waiting room, more like an untouched living room. There was an attempt at decor in the room, fake plants and bright curtains filled the room with staged intimacy. I just recall being hugged and told to get better in that room and being handed off to this prison. I was then led down one of the hallways and through a heavy wooden door. The door locked behind us with a metallic thunk and I noticed the number pad required to get the door to open again. The flashy interior from the entrance had been abandoned for bolted tables and functional furniture. I was then given my room that was apparently in the male hall. I distinguished this by recognizing the names on plaques while walking by. Craig. Thomas. Kevin. Kenny. I said to myself testing my memory. Then it was my room, there were more rooms that seem occupied farther down the corridor but I wasn't able to venture there yet. I was told that I would be getting my things tomorrow. That first night I sat on my bed in tears not sure what to make of my situation.

* * *

The 7 days I've been in here have been less than nightmarish. I detest the group therapy I'm put into. I feel as they are all judging me. I thought as I looked down to my bandaged forearms. I rarely get any visitors. I think it's because my mother hates seeing me like this. That doesn't really make me feel better I thought as I looked out the metal barred window this living room had. No one bothered me, I just sat in my armchair and daydreamed about running away. Today was different though, someone came to see me. A male nurse led him over. He seemed confused that the worker didn't move far from us and was keeping watch. "He's not going to leave." I assured him. "He has to make sure you're not sneaking me drugs." The nurse smiled at us.

"So, Tweekers." he begins.

"Don't call me that, I hate when people do that." I cut him off. I felt slightly bad about it but he should know better.

"What happened?" he finishes his sentence.

"They caught me." I said turning my head towards him.

"I fucked up. It was bound to happen. It's what everyone wanted to happen."

His brow was furrowing "What do you mean everyone wanted it to happen?"

I looked away from him. Not like this I thought. My hands started shaking and I wanted to say something else but my throat was trembling. He crossed his arms. He seems pissed. I know I don't fill him with that same desire to run away like I used to.

"When are you going to get out of here?"

"I don't know!" I said a bit too loud. He starts to recoil. I feel awful and turn my hands into fists.

"Are you okay, Tweek?" He's trying to sooth me.

"I'm fine." I mumble, leaning my forehead onto my knees.

"I wish I could get you out of here. This place isn't good for you." He was acting bullish. I know he can't get me out of here. I don't lift my head from my knees. It's better to hide down here.

"You don't belong here." He continues. He's wrong.

"Clyde, stop. You don't know shit about me, do you?" I stood up and walked away as briskly as possible. I walked fast in fear of falling over and in fear of having to take more of his optimism.

* * *

After running to my room away from Clyde and feeling like a petulant child I curled myself up in ball in my bed. It's not really my bed, I'm kind of borrowing it for now but I don't care, I'll take it. I twist the covers around me feeling nostalgic. I miss my over-sized head phones that I used to be able to blare loud music from. I miss the feeling of smothering my ears and the vibrations of sound shaking me and the pounding of my heartbeat in my head. The things you forget. I hear feint knocking at my door. Great. I sit up with the comforter around me not really comforting me. The door opens and someone who doesn't work here enters. I'm a bit surprised. I can't put a name to the face but his head almost hits the door frame.

"Yes?" I ask as angrily as possible. Go away.

"You seem upset." No shit Sherlock, I bitterly thought as I tried to discreetly wipe a tear from my eye. He closed the door. I glance up to the camera that is placed in every bedroom and thank it. Scream rape and they'll come for him.

"Do you mind if I ask what's up with you?" Yes.

"No." I bite my tongue.

"You're really quiet in group." He bites his lip.

"Yes." Just give yes and no answers and he'll get bored. "Can you give more than one worded responses?" His voice picks up, he's not pleased.

"Of course I can. Do you think I'm _that_ crazy?" He chuckles.

"I've seen worse." What does he mean he's seen worse? I can feel my face turn into shock.

"I'm kidding... So was that your brother visiting you?" I crack a knuckle. I know Clyde and I are similar heights and have similar faces but _really_?

"No, a friend." I correct, giving a half truth. He shrugs his shoulders.

"I don't like seeing the fresh meat here having a bad time." How sweet. I roll my eyes. He laughs.

"Come on, play a game of Pool with me. It'll be fun." I looked at him befuddled.

"Where is there a pool table?" is the first thing I think to say. He smiles.

"You haven't seen the game room yet?"

"No." This makes me curious so I get the momentum to stand up and ask "It's a bit late but you have a name right?" He goes to open my door again "Craig, now follow."

We waltzed back to the living area and down one of the hallways. He led me to a room with board games piling to the ceiling and a pool table. He wasn't lying so that means I can trust him. Some people seem genuinely shocked to see me not sulk in my room. One of the workers in the room flashes a smile and I nod like that's the right thing to do. Craig sets the balls on the table.

"You know how to play eight ball right?" I nod again. He breaks first. The billiard balls glide over the table effortlessly into the holes. I'm already losing. I blink and see that Craig has already knocked in 4 solid balls.

"I'm stripes then?"

He looked back at me. "Yeah. I thought that may be obvious." He stuck his tongue out revealing a piercing. Note to self: do not fraternize with an intimidating man that asks to play pool with you. After countless turns of me hitting the bumper and not getting any of my balls in, I finally had lost the game.

"That wasn't so bad was it?" He asked me in a dry voice.

I shrugged "I guess it's better than hiding away in my room."

He smiled. "Mission accomplished. Now Sandy will get off my ass."

My stomach dropped like a lead balloon. Dr. Sandy Ryn is the older woman who is the head psychiatrist of this ward. Oh God, what was I thinking? Of course someone wouldn't actually want to talk to me. My face turned into a scowl as Craig leaned back into one of the chairs. I thought about escaping but I was interrupted.

"Hey do you want to play again?" Craig leaned forward placing his elbows on his knees. As I reached for the cue ball and half smiled I told him. "I do."

* * *

After losing to Craig because I was too slow to knock anything in for what seemed like the hundredth time, the nurses called for lights out. This was the first time I had actually made it to lights out without already being in my bed first. We returned our cue sticks to the wall, Craig let out a bye and strolled to his room. I walked to my room and as I laid down on my bed I realized that my time spent with him was really sweet. Craig actually made feel better about Clyde. I know Clyde cares about me but could he do it in an any less haphazardly way? I turned my face into my pillow and smiled. It had been awhile. I'm surprised I remembered how to.

* * *

I fell asleep not having to count sheep that night. I immediately woke up once I heard a knock at the door, it was the daily morning wake up call we always had. I slowly rolled out of my bed with the blankets wrapped around me like I was a burrito. I was pleased but then sighed realizing I would have to make my bed after this. That was enough motivation. I'm pretty sure today is Sunday but it could be Thursday for all I knew was that they were both visitor days. I groaned. Once I unraveled myself I remembered that visiting days are only the weekends and Thursday and also Friday? I should really ask more about this place. I've been here for 8 days and I'm still clueless.

After I had tidied up my room to successful expectations I was sent off to group therapy. I saw that there was a seat next to Craig open and I gladly sat next to him.

"Here early eh?" Craig acknowledging that I was usually tardy.

"Yeah" I bit my lip I can't show that I need a friend, I playfully pushed his arm.

"Strict group rule, no rough housing." Craig laughed or chortled rather. It was kind of cute. Oh god stop yourself. Don't think of him like that it will only cause trouble. I frowned at myself. Rules can be broken...eventually I feigned hope.

Someone sat beside us and greeted us with a "Yo." He was too pale to be using slang to us white boys.

"Hey Kenneth." Craig said while sticking out his punctured tongue. God he looked so cool. Tweek, stop it I thought. I reached up to grab my hair as Kenneth asked me for my name.

"Tweek." I practically whispered in embarrassment that I have been here awhile and I purposely have shut people out.

He grinned "Call me Kenny, don't listen to this formal asshole." he said while pointing to Craig. Craig flipped him off. How confusing.

"So Tweek? Have you been acquainted with the rest of the coo coo clan?" He grinned.

"Not really." He pointed to the other guy sitting in the circle, who looked normal but I know I look normal and I'm not.

"That's Kevin. He's Chinese." I waved not expecting a response from but he gave one. I don't know why Kevin being Chinese mattered to Kenny but I digress.

"Where are you from?" Kevin asked.

"I'm from around here." I tried to smile.

Kenny motioned to a very muscular guy who seemed to only work out his upper body. His legs were as thin as mine and I look like I starve myself. "Yo, I'm Trent."

He was tanned like a beach bum and better looking than I was. Damn.

We we're interrupted by our psychiatrist, Dr. Ryn, corralling some of the other boys too lazy to show up on time. Dr. Ryn lists their names off "Thomas, Christophe, and Gregory."

I can't blame them for not wanting to be up at the ass crack of dawn.

She ganders around. "Everyone's here!" I echo to myself, yep everyone's here.

Dr. Ryn was the head doctor of the male ward. I've eavesdropped that there is a female ward which is a bit larger but I haven't seen it yet and I wouldn't think I would want to. The three tardy people all have names now but they still all look slightly similar to me. Caucasian, tattoos, and scowls. They look like they belong here. I look around at the rest of the crazy rugged faces sitting amongst me. Our doctor greeted us and went through all the basic pleasantries. I look off to the painting of fruit behind her. I have no idea who painted it or how but it's better than actually listening. This is my way of looking like I am in the moment and not thinking about how I hate it here and how Clyde's being an asshole. I flinch to myself, he's not an asshole.

"Tweek?" Dr. Ryn coos. I snap back in a deer stuck in headlights way.

"Yes?" I mumble.

"How are you adjusting to it here?" She smiles a florescent grin which shame my stained teeth.

I pipe a "Fine!" too quickly and seem tense. She nods and moves on. I start breathing faster. I'm glad that today is just a group thing and not a day where she individually talks to us. That seems to be only once a week since I only suffered through that once. It's easier to hide in a group than when you're in a room, one on one with pictures of children and cats glaring at you while an older, overtly thin woman asks "Why do you hate yourself?" I exaggerate but reason that it's too much pressure, man. I conclude that the man I am talking to is myself and look at Kevin who is for some reason talking? I glance at the analog clock on the wall and it dawns on me that talking to myself can kill so much time. I fade in and out and realize that he's alluding to his obsessive compulsion to organize everything in the building and a glare is shot at me. Shit. I feel my face droop and Craig chuckle and the meeting ultimately ends.

**AN: This is an older story that I'm publishing. I might have three chapters written. (It's all in one document.) I'll see the reactions I get to decide to continue on or not. So if do you really like this story please tell me!**


	2. Wait it Out

After group therapy Kenny, Craig, and I all sat together on one of the couches. I sat in the middle of them since they were both talking at me. Asking me what kind of guys I like and if he was coming back today. It was kind of overwhelming. I started to pick at the skin on my thumb. Anything to block out their voices. Remember breathe in and breathe out. I clutch onto Craig's arm.

"Hey, no need to play grab hands with me." I beg to differ but let go anyway. I might collapse from all this pressure. The hefty metal doors crashed open and the visitors poured in. I could tell him apart from all the old people. He was lanky and a ghost. His tight black t shirt defined his lean muscles. It was a desperate grasp at masculinity. It wasn't like he had any left I sneered at myself. I saw Kenny shoot a dark blaze his way and holler for him to come over. I wanted to punch him, I didn't care that it would require more bandaging or reprimand. I screw up my 'relationship' with Clyde, fine on my own thank you. He walked up and handed me a teddy bear with an 'I love you' on the chest.

"Your mom wanted me to pick something up for you." He put his hand on the back of his neck to try and diffuse his awkwardness. Craig nudged my side and winked. Ow. I wonder if he means the _I__ love you_. I wouldn't be shocked if this was a ploy to manipulate me.

"Thanks, man." A drop secretly runs down my face. Jesus, I'm so gay. I smile more at my own self depreciation.

"So who is this?" A devilish grin plastered itself on Kenny's face.

"I'm here for Tweek." Clyde's eyes narrowing. I inwardly panic. I realize that Kenny looks like a prison member when he has the sleeves of his hoodie pushed up to reveal his sleeves of tattoos and Craig looks just as menacing with all his face piercings. I guess it looks like a joined a gang.

"Hey" I interject to break the silence. No one looks impressed.

"Can I steal him for a second?" Clyde grabs my arm.

Kenny outbursts "Who the hell do you think you are?"

Clyde shoots back "Who the hell do you think you are?" I frown and Clyde drags me to a recliner in the corner of the room. The nurses looked alarmed and I feel all the blood rushing to my head. He's never this aggressive. I sat down in the recliner that he lead me to. He sat with me even though there wasn't enough room for the both of us. His hand was clasped around my thigh. It was invigorating but I felt like we were in a public arena and I would be fed to the lions if anyone found out.

"Are you alright?" No you just made a scene.

"Hm." His grip on my thigh gets tighter

"Ouch. Not really, considering you're digging your nails into my pant leg." His eyes twinkle.

"So who are they?" He whispers. I'm guessing he means the hooligans who just questioned and yelled at him.

"Friends?" I jest.

"Oh, they seem kind of brutish and not really your type." He pauses. "I have to make my way up to my class at one."

I have no idea what time it actually is, I think to myself this one of the many things I hate about this place, no god damn clocks.

"I can't really stay long because the traffic's a bitch." He turns my face and closes in for a peck. The muscles under my scapula twinge.

"See you." He gets up and walks out as fast as he came in. I clutch the bear he gave me into my chest and cry a bit. Clyde didn't mean to remind me about school but I hate the fact that everyone jumped onto the college ship and I jumped into the sea. Craig gets up to bring me back to the couch we were originally sitting on.

* * *

Once I sit back down with them I don't feel as estranged anymore. Kenny jumps down my throat though. "Who was that? Was that your boyfriend? Why did he kiss you?"

I try and answer curtly because I feel so genuinely angry. Didn't you just ask who the hell he thinks he is when he came to see me? This is why I stayed closed off from people. The bigger my walls, the harder they climb until they give up. I sigh. I feel Craig's hand creep onto my shoulder.

"You OK?" Way too familiar. I shake my head tears forming. Why do I always have to be like this? Cry at the drop of a hat? After Craig smacks Kenny's arm I think he gets the memo and we change subjects.

"So how old are you Tweek?" I want to stab him.

"I'm eighteen." He whistles a little.

"Fresh blood eh? I'm 22 and been here for 2 years after a bunch of petty crimes in my teen years, this place makes me a 'good boy'." He winked. I'm sitting next to a convicted criminal...great.

"Doc says I only have 2 years left before she'll let me out, she says I'm bipolar, yeah sure fucking candy man." I feel repulsed but Craig's low voice penetrates my ear drum.

"It's like a revolving door for me here. Depression sucks man, It manipulates you to turn against yourself." I find courage to pose the question of age onto him.

"Nineteen." I looked shocked and he laughs.

"Do I look old?"

"No!" I blush.

Kenny gets up to talk to Kevin who is stemming in the corner.

"Well hopefully fifth times the charm."

"How long do you normally stay for here?" Craig looks surprised that I'm engaged into this conversation.

"Dr. Ryn likes to get you out of here in 6 months so you can independently live. That's what she's been saying to me since I've turned 18. You can stay longer but only if you push for it or act crazier than you are. You can also sign yourself out and get the hell out of here in a few weeks but that's not a very good idea." He looks at me to respond.

"What happens?" He continues "They either come crawling back or they end up dead or imprisoned."

"Oh. How long how you been here for this time?"

"Only a month. So I should get out around the same time you do. If you stay."

I start to think as our chat is slowly stopping, I need to stop that.

"Why did Dr. Ryn ask you to talk to me." I state when I mean to ask a question. I cover my mouth with my hand. Fuck. I didn't mean to say that aloud.

"We have the same affliction and are close in the age. We're the youngest. She also thought you were going to go down the path of trying to get the hell out of here as soon as possible."

Great, I think. The one good thing I can hold onto is my youth. My accursed youth! I chuckle and Craig stares at me weird. I want to talk about Dr. Ryn and Clyde but nothing comes out so my mouth hangs agape.

He scratches his crotch and outs that "You're a bit silly."

I nod and sheepishly say "Yeah..."

He coughs."Let's ask Kenny if he wants to play poker with us for pretzels and potato chips."

I shrug "Nothing else better to do."

* * *

We sat down as Pringles became of monetary value. They were some reason more valuable than hard pretzels but Kenny had his reasons. I couldn't really concentrate on this Texas Hold'em game. Kenny explained the rules briskly but I didn't follow. Kevin would frequently ask me questions about myself. I would skate by with an occasional nod. He explained that he isn't to fond of new people. He doesn't like to have to get to know another new person. I could see his point. Fuck strangers. After I pushed in the rest of my pretzels and gracefully was eliminated first I told them I was going to bed and they told me that they would see me tomorrow. Sadly, they would.

* * *

I checked in with the staff that I wanted to be in my room because I know I'm probably not sleeping. They lead me to my room, for some reason I bow to them and they look at me weird and give thanks. Fuck. I survey the room, I finally notice the sole photograph hanging on the barren landscape of the beige wall. It's a lighthouse. I heard that lighthouses were a beacon of hope or some shit. I blame the television. I miss my television, there's one in the main room but the majority of the assholes here put on TBS, if I eavesdrop another shitty Big Bang Theory rerun I may attempt suicide again. I gulp, oops did I just think what I thought? I scurry to turn off the light switch. I'm feeling anxious. How can I joke about that? What the fuck is wrong with me? I gently lay myself down. Maybe, I belong here. I sigh. I rolled myself into the blankets. I like that the workers made everyone's beds today, I'm super lazy and wouldn't do it myself. I huff. I have to have a one and one session with Dr. Ryn. I regret on the first day saying I was against medicine at first and refusing to take any until I was ready. I guess that means I'm ready. I feel my stomach wanting to work against me. I turn over throwing my face into my pillow. I close my eyes.

* * *

"Yeah you're right, I've got some sort of virus in my head." I laughed while looking down to the icy blue water below.

"You don't have to do this." I could hear his desperation. I grasped the railing in front of me and leaned back.

"Oh really? I know that." His feet move forward. I threw one of my legs over the metal railing. The intense winds picked up and my stomach unsettled. He grabbed my shoulder

"What are you doing?" I looked into his fear stricken eyes.

"Proving a point." I stated coldly. He ripped me back so I couldn't end our conversation. Now on solid ground I pushed him away. The sounds of cars whipping by filled our silence.

"What the hell? Why do you always take off like that?"

He pulled at my wrists. "If you're unhappy why can't you tell me?"

My tears hit the ground. "Why do you always come and save me?"

My voice started shaking "I'm not your damsel in distress."

"Stop acting like you're my knight in shining armor!"

He started leading me away from the edge.

"I care about you, don't you get that?" He argued.

"If I didn't I would have let you jump."

"Are you happy? Isn't that what you wanted to hear?"

I just shook my head unable to form words. His face started melting. I felt my legs as they were becoming jelly and the sky turned beat red.

* * *

I thrust myself out of my bed. My skin was dampened with cold sweat and I felt clammy. I got up to look out of a small window I have. I wanted soup but this nice looking weather makes it taboo. The sun hasn't risen yet but I get the feeling it's technically morning time. I'm not sure how I can get back to sleep. I try breathing in... and out. Breathe through my nose and then out of my mouth. I think I feel calmer. Jesus, why did I slit my wrists? I want to slap myself. I don't want to be here I want to be home being ignored by my family members and the guy who lets me blow him. I don't think Clyde likes me very much. I feel like I want to scream but I'm aware enough that will draw attention so I decide to climb back in bed and wait it out.

**AN: Thank you reviewers I appreciate it! Speaking of shameless smut that does have plot, read my other story Nettle (wink, wink). Thanks also the silent readers you're pretty cool too.**


	3. Clyde

I was driving when I received that phone call. I was on a backstreet driving home from work. It's nothing special I just serve ungrateful assholes food. It's as monotonous as it sounds but I pull over and answer. It's an unknown number, I pick up.

"Hello?"

"Is this Clyde Donovan?"

"Yes."

"I'm Dr. Ryn from Golden Hill Hospital." I know that place. Shit shit shit shit shit.

"Yes?" The word rushed out of my mouth.

"I have a patient in my custody who wanted to contact you, Tweek Tweak?" My eyes unwillingly go into the back of my head. I can't see, shit why would he do this? What did he even do?

"Can I speak to him?"

She cheerfully responses unexpectedly "Oh he's sleeping right now but I can give you the visiting hours if you want to see him."

She doled out the visiting times and I tried to remember them. I've been trying to text him the past three days no fucking wonder why he wasn't answering. She politely says goodbye and hangs up the phone. I punch the steering wheel with my phone in hand and feel stupid. I can feel my heart beat like it's a rapid dog that's been caged for too long. I should have noticed. I should have noticed! After panicking for what seems like an hour I feel that I can finally drive home.

* * *

My mother greets me with a "Where have you been?"

I bluff with a raise of there was a car accident on the highway coming back from work. She folds, I win. I notice my father's things next to the white couches that no one is allowed to touch in our wall-papered living room. I quickly retreat into my room. I feel atrocious that I'd rather avoid my parents than to speak to them. My mother with her short bob haircut and strict rules about what I do, what I wear, how long I should be. I feel like an alien here even though supposedly it's in my best interest. My father or my policeman which ever is the more fitting role when it comes to "teaching me right". It's normally the latter. I hate to say I'm jealous of Tweek but his father is dead. I feel morbid and guilty that I would wish for that but he has so much more freedom than I do. Also I'm working my self to death at a stupid bourgeois dining place. It's too classy to be a "restaurant". All for that goal, to just move out and have some peace. I could have dug a larger hole into my college debt by living there but nope, I was pressured to "please stay home" and "we'll miss you", "it's only 30 minutes away." Fuck, I wish I could live in the city and actually be walking distance to almost everything. That's what I get for being born in Bum Fuck, Colorado, also known as South Park. I drop onto my made bed trying not to think about him but I can't help it. He's too damn important. I rub my eyes and get a not so restful night of sleep.

* * *

The next few days I have been working and sleeping to pass the time and almost to avoid going to see him but I checked the visiting hours and I plan to go after work. The work day never seems to end and I seem to be the unluckiest mother fucker. Two people didn't tip. TWO. I grumble when I stand back in the worker's station waiting for another table's meal to come out. After collecting the last few checks I got to leave making a somewhat stable profit.

When I pulled into Golden Hill I needed a bit of a breather so I could gather my courage to go inside. Once I got up to the front desk and explained why I was here and I wanted to visit I was lead through one long hallway. The final door opened and it was like I was finally at the right castle to see my princess. He was looking dour in the corner, alone. I walked to Tweek and a nurse followed behind me. I want to tell them that I won't kidnap him but the reason I won't is because I can't. "He's not going anywhere," No shit? Tweek tells me. "He has to make sure you're not sneaking me drugs." The nurse smiles at us. How morbid.

"So, Tweekers". I begin

"Don't call me that, I hate when people do that." I pause and glare.

"What happened?"

"They caught me." He turned to look at me and I was genuinely surprised at how rugged and tired he looked. I couldn't tell if he was like this before or after entering here. I can't remember.

"I fucked up. It was bound to happen. It's what everyone wanted to happen."

I look alarmed. "What do you mean everyone wanted it to happen?"

He started visibly shaking and looked as if he was about to start sobbing. I crossed my arms. I don't know how can I deal with this right now. I'm so fucking worried about him but I don't know how to show it.

"When are you going to get out of here?" I boldly ask.

"I don't know!" He nearly shouts. I think this is a good time to try and defuse him and return later. There is no way I can get through to him now.

"Are you okay, Tweek?" I question in genuine concern.

"I'm fine." He mumbles and puts his head between his knees.

"I wish I could get you out of here. This place isn't good for you." He was acting strange and I didn't feel too great about it either. Am I the cause of this? He doesn't lift his head from his knees. I know I failed at trying to help. I feel like an idiot.

"You don't belong here." I continue moronically

"Clyde, stop. You don't know shit about me, do you?" He got up and scampered away from me like he was a mouse and I was a cat. I feel like shit. I look at the supervising nurse and he disapprovingly looks at me. I want to defend myself and claim that I know the real Tweek but I just hang my head in shame and apologize. I leave and shed a few tears myself as I walk to my beat up car.

* * *

After leaving Golden Hill, I felt sick. Almost as if someone just punched me in the gut. I started driving again and it was challenging to even concentrate on the road. Though I got home in one piece I knew I was going to be interrogated once I entered my house.

"So where have you been?" My mother calls from our perfect kitchen. Walking in I decide to be truthful to test the choppy waters.

"I was visiting a friend at golden hill...he tried killing himself last week." I hold in a breath. "So is he OK? Which one is he? Have I met this nut before?" I sigh.

"Yeah, Tweek."

She hums "He always seemed strange. Always fidgeting and never talking. You need to watch the quiet ones. Dinner's in the fridge."

She walks out and I'm in the clear. I heat up the bland chicken and mashed potatoes and think about him. I start eating and I feel angry that I've been brushed off by two people that I care about. I'm not sure which bothers me more, my own blood ignoring me or my friend. I scoop the last of my food into my mouth and angrily place my dish into the sink.

I finally return to my bedroom and flop into my bed. It's nice to get away from everyone. Silence. I debate turning on the news but the old white people are still up in arms that there is a black person in office. I scoff. I look to my laptop and know what I can do. I put the computer into my lap, pull down my pants, and take off my shirt. I open up the device and go into my favorites. I click onto Red Tube and search for a video with a good looking enough girl and guy. 10 minutes pass and all I have been really doing is stroking to thumbnails. I shut the lid down and pull my pants up dissatisfied. I get up and walk to the bathroom not bothering to put a shirt on. I look in the mirror and observe my scrawny frame. I have a resemblance of muscles in my stomach but my arms look like limp noodles. I wish I had more time to work out but the only way to even possibly make any progress is to start taking steroids. I laugh at myself as I grab for the toothpaste. As I start brushing I look at my face and see the bags under my eyes and the pimples on my forehead. I spit and rinse and fix my hair. I leave to go back to my room to crawl under the covers. I bury my face into my pillow and smother my thoughts to sleep.

* * *

Heavy breathing and panting is below me. I'm naked and I can't make out where I am I can just see his back. "Fuck, Clyde."

I grind into him. It feels like I'm floating. More moaning and I breathe out. I want to hear my name again but he just begs for more gyration. I feel my toes curl and I turn him around to change position. He looks like when I first met him. So fresh faced and naive. He grabs himself and coos. This is bliss.

I feel the drool on my pillow and I open my eyes and grab my phone to glance at the time. Three AM. I got a few hours but I feel moistness in my underwear. I guess that dream was better than settling in reality. I want to shower but it's way too early to. I decide to just change underwear and spray cologne on me so I don't smell like cum. I don't feel like putting clothes yet so I lay back down and choose to wait out the night. I'm grateful for not having class on a Friday but having back to back shifts blows. I pout. Why did he act so hostile towards me? He normally is so kind and open towards me even when he's ranting about gnomes or government conspiracies. I want to talk to someone about it but I really can't. Questions would lead to more questions. I debate looking up help hotlines but I hate talking over the phone. I think over the people who I could perhaps talk to about this. I immediately rule out anyone who went to high school with us. Everyone that was a friend of mine are all at different colleges far, far away. They barely even keep tabs with me anyway. I narrow it down to the people at work who occasionally talk to me. I feel good about this I guess. I just need a second opinion or someone to actually tell me what to do in this situation so I don't make a bigger fool of myself.

* * *

The Luxury Cafe is only a few minutes out of South Park, in North Park. It's way too swanky to be in South Park with all the white trash, The Luxury Cafe is better than that. The workers wear crisp button down shirts and fancy black slacks. The only reason I stay working at this place is because the menu is overpriced and raises my tip.

I serve a few tables of crotchety old people and then seek out my target. Bebe is one of the older waitresses I work with. By older I mean she's old enough to drink. We go on smoke breaks together and talk shit. I've thought about asking her out on a date but for some reason my conscience tells me that would be bad news.

"Hey Bebe." I catch her punching in numbers on our touch screen.

"What's up, honey?" She looks up to me.

"When we're on break can we talk? I need your advice." I can feel myself get sweaty.

She chuckles "Aw how sweet. Sure."

That day it was much harder to balance plates and drinks.

Halfway into my shift Bebe and I go outside take our break to talk.

Standing near the backdoor of the building being protected by dumpsters from the onlookers and customers who would judge us for being young and not working constantly.

"So what's up? You're acting all nervous." She pulls a lighter out of her pocket.

"Oh I'll just cut to the chase. My friend is in a psyche ward." My heart pounds.

"That sucks." She light her cigarette and blows smoke near me. I do the same. The toxins calm my nerves.

"Is it your girlfriend?" She ponders aloud.

I don't say anything.

"Is it your boyfriend?"

"No! Well...maybe."

She laughs at me again. "Well I'm no psychologist but just make sure you're there for him. Don't leave him hanging." She smiles.

"I don't want to break up with him I just feel overwhelmed." I explained.

"I bet he's overwhelmed too, Clyde."

"Yeah." I finish smoking and stomp out my cigarette. Bebe does the same.

"Any other questions for Dr. Bebe?" She wiggles her eyebrows at me.

"No. God you're weird."

She cackles and we go back to our shitty job.

**AN: I start college soon. Blah. Thanks for reading and review if you're inclined. **


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